Good Luck Thunderstorms
by Not A Hurricane
Summary: K-Mart witnesses the more tender side of Alice and Claire's relationship. Eventually, she won't be the only one to know. Post-Afterlife. Fluff. Claire/Alice oneshot.


**Good Luck Thunderstorms**

**Summary:** K-Mart witnesses the more tender side of Alice and Claire's relationship. Eventually, she won't be the only one to know. Post-Afterlife. Fluff. Claire/Alice oneshot.

**A/N:** hi guys! first RE fic here. i can't believe it's fluffy, i'm actually more into the angst stuff. but here goes... please do enjoy. :) any feedback is appreciated.

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><p>The sun had chosen to hide its brightness behind the clouds. It sent its rays through their layers, bathing everything below in a silver-gray light. Even the vast and abundant blue of the ocean was dulled by the grayness of the light. Waves splashed against the bottom of the Arcadia almost in protest of the ocean's dreary appearance; the waves' protests seemed to grow as the ship drew nearer to a darker grey patch of sky on the horizon.<p>

"We're not going directly into it," Alice supplied in a soft voice. Her hand squeezed the tense one in hers reassuringly, just as a gust of wind swept up and toyed with dark brown and deep red hair.

Claire glanced at her, her hand squeezing back. "I know," the redhead sighed. "It's just that thunderstorms always seem to bring me bad luck."

Cobalt eyes shifted their focus from the flashing storm on the horizon to Claire, scanning the delicate feminine features of her face. Having found what she was seeking, she returned her gaze to the horizon. "You shouldn't worry so much."

"I can't just turn off my responsibilities," the other woman's protest came almost immediately - almost as if she knew Alice's words had been coming all along. Her expression and the slackening of her hand's grip both hinted at a touch of exasperation, _I can worry if I want_.

"I don't like it when you worry," _I understand that_.

They were silent for long moments. The gust made itself known again, tossing their hair about and agitating the waves of the ocean further. Chilly air coaxed a shiver out of the redhead and forced goosebumps to form on her arms until Alice tugged her closer, so that their shoulders were touching. She remained tense (the booming of the distant thunder is a hair unsettling to her ears), even as Alice's body heat drove away her chills.

After a minute Claire's shoulders dropped into a more relaxed state and she turned questioning olive green eyes to the slightly taller woman. "Why don't you?"

"You don't ever smile when you're like that."

Pink dusted the apples of Claire's cheeks at that, and she looked hurriedly off to the side in a vain effort to conceal it. A bit of shy laughter escaped her.

Alice gave a smile of her own, more simpering than shy, the corners of her mouth turning upwards. "And those kinds of cute things become nonexistent," she laced their fingers together in time with a still far-off flash of lightning.

A more unrestrained chuckle sounded from the redhead and she began to shake with her laughter. When she calmed down enough to speak, she quipped, "How romantic of you."

"You know me, Claire," the taller woman's eyes lost their rare playful sparkle. _No, I'm not_. She chewed on her bottom lip; a sign of her own mild embarrassment.

"Yeah, I do," Claire agreed. The fingertips of her free hand ghosted up one of Alice's forearms until they were tentatively touching the crook of her elbow. She leaned up to plant a kiss on the side of her lips, still tentative, caring. "If you smiled more, I'd smile more."

Tugging Claire closer in an effort deepen the kiss - only to have her lean away with a coy smile on her lips - forced a disgruntled frown upon Alice's face. "You'll have to stop letting thunderstorms get you so worked up first."

"Ha! When did you catch a sense of humor?"

Alice simply smirked.

"Forget it. And for the record," Claire continued, index finger punctuating each word with a tap on the warm skin of the inside of Alice's elbow. "I'm not scared of thunderstorms. They just give me bad luck ... for the most part."

"For the most part?" Alice mumbled into the pale skin of Claire's neck, having given into the temptation of kissing a particularly sensitive area. Seemingly synchronized with the storm, she wrapped a toned arm around the redhead's waist alongside a streaking lightning bolt, squeezed her hand in time with a crackling of thunder. As the first droplets of water fell from the gray clouds above, her mouth began sucking on the junction between neck and shoulder.

"Mmm, apparently they can bring _good_ luck," she disentangled their fingers in favor of threading hers through dark brown tresses. She pulled her head up just enough to kiss her fully, but not hurriedly. She pressed her body into Alice's, tempted to abandon all conservatism and ravage her because of how well their curves fit together - how good Alice's body felt against hers. But she maintained the languid pace, plainly reveling in the other's lips and how the rain added a touch that made everything _better_. Their kiss was an exchange of _Thank you's_ and something more.

It was only when they both parted for needed air, their mouths came together again without the carefully measured tenderness, and both of Alice's hands disappeared into the front of Claire's shirt did I remove myself from my perch on the stairs (that lead from the inside of the ship to the upper deck) and head back into the ship.

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><p>In deep thought, I tapped the end of the pencil against my chin and stared at the blank page following my thoughts I had written about my new observations a few days ago. I wanted to expand on the two sentences that only gave a vague idea of how different I look at them now. There was obviously a whole brand new dimension I was not aware of ... Specifically of one, because I'd seen that hint of comfort and tenderness from the other. But then again, the other never showed any signs of needing to be comforted ... and to be treated so ... by the most unlikely yet somehow still likely of people-<p>

"Hey, K, didn't expect to find you up here. What's up?" I started at the - unmistakable - loud voice of Luther West.

"N-nothing," my pencil fell from my grasp and I struggled to pick it up in a composed manner. I fumbled with closing and holding the worn composition notebook that served as my diary for so many years.

Luther whistled, and I heard his footsteps on the deck as he walked to lean over my shoulder. "Ooh," he grinned mischievously. "Did I catch you doing something baaad?"

"No. Not at all!"

The grin remained unwavering on his face. "Okay," he said. When I visibly relaxed, he reached over and snatched my notebook from my grasp. "What's this?"

"Nothing! Now give it back!" I jumped up, frantic and reaching wildly. He held it way out of my reach, using his height to his advantage.

"What is it?" Luther asked again. He flipped it open with a single hand, and magically it opened to _that_ page - "_Day 49, Good Luck Thunderstorms ... Alice is quite obviously a suppressed romantic_. Wait! What! Really?"

"That's my _diary_!" I all but shouted at him. His eyes grew wide, and he looked between me and the black and white notebook. "I'm telling Claire you read it without my permission!"

While still managing to look terrified, he pointed to the Alice sentence. "Man, I'm telling everyone about _that_!"


End file.
